Assessing Mr Darcy

by Leenie Brown

  “Perhaps,” Darcy replied with a tight smile while he hoped that there would be a happy reason for imbibing.

  Darcy’s heart thumped loudly with each of the few steps to Mr. Bennet’s study. He paused only a moment to pull in a fortifying breath and to remind himself of his need to succeed before entering the room.

  “Gentlemen,” Mr. Bennet waved them to the chairs before his desk, “Mr. Hill informs me that you wish to speak to me.”

  “We do,” Darcy said as he took his seat. The room felt very warm at present even with only the presence of a few glowing embers in the grate.

  “I will assume it is about my daughters.”

  Darcy silently thanked the Lord for allowing the gentleman to broach the subject, so that he did not have to. “Yes, sir. I would like to marry Miss Elizabeth.”

  Bingley looked at him with wide eyes, and for good reason. Marry was not the word that was supposed to have come out of his mouth. It was supposed to be court.

  “I mean to say, I should like permission to court Miss Elizabeth with the intent of eventually marrying her.” Darcy rubbed his hands on his breeches and forced his lungs to fill with air.

  Mr. Bennet chuckled. “I assume you have never done this before?”

  Darcy’s brow furrowed. Why would he have done this before? Offering to court and marry someone was not something a gentleman did on a regular basis, was it?

  Mr. Bennet continued to chuckle. “I am teasing you, Mr. Darcy. These requests are not easy for any of us to make.” He turned his eyes toward Bingley, who gulped.

  “I would like to court Miss Bennet,” Bingley said.

  “To what end?”

  Bingley blinked.

  “Do you also wish permission to marry her?” Mr. Bennet asked.

  To Darcy, it looked as if the man was enjoying their discomfort far too much. Of course, he was not about to point that out.

  Bingley nodded eagerly. “Of course. Yes. I would like to marry her if that is her wish after we have come to know each other better.”

  “Is there any reason I should deny either of you?”

  Darcy began to shake his head but then stopped. “There is one reason.”

  Again, Bingley turned wide eyes to him.

  “Your son will not approve of either of us. I was rude to Miss Elizabeth when she came upon me after I had injured myself.”

  Mr. Bennet’s brow furrowed. “She has welcomed you since, so I am going to assume that either you have been forgiven or your rudeness was not such that it angered her. For I know my daughter is not one to allow rudeness to pass without some exchange of words.”

  “You are correct,” Darcy said. “She has forgiven me, but…”

  “William has not.”

  “No, he has not, but for reasons that go beyond my behaviour on that morning in the wood.”

  Mr. Bennet’s head tipped, and he studied Darcy with curiosity. “What reasons might he have? I know he has not seemed welcoming of you since he learned your name.”

  Darcy blew out a breath. “He has been told some things about me that are not true. However, the person who shared these lies with him is convincingly charming, and then when I replied crossly to Miss Elizabeth, Mr. William Bennet took that as proof that what he had heard was correct.”

  Mr. Bennet’s head bobbed up and down slowly. “Would this have anything to do with a will not being executed as written?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “That explains why Lizzy was asking me about wills.” He sighed. “She seemed very determined to prove your innocence. I think you will have no trouble convincing her to accept you.” He grimaced. “However, her brother will be more challenging. I thought I had met the most obstinate child when Elizabeth was born, but then William arrived.” He shook his head. “He is exceptionally hard to move at times – especially if he thinks his family, Lizzy in particular, has been injured. His opinion once lost is most challenging to restore.”

  “I understand. I am the same.”

  Mr. Bennet chuckled. “That is good to know. Such obstinacy will stand you in good stead when dealing with Elizabeth.” He smiled. “You both have my permission to present your offers to my daughters, and I will make my son aware of the fact that I find no reason to prevent you. Of course, I will expect a call regarding all the financial particulars once you have come to the point.”

  “Thank you,” Bingley said happily.

  “Yes, thank you, sir,” Darcy said. “Both for your permission and believing me to be as I appear – for I assure you I am.”

  Mr. Bennet stood. “My Lizzy would not defend you so strongly if you were anything other than honorable. She saw the error in the tale she had been told and ferreted out the information she needed to be assured that her opinion of you was correct. Therefore, it is not I but Elizabeth who deserves your thanks on that front. However, since she is not here, I will take it.” He chuckled and moved around his desk.

  “I think I will wait to tell my wife the good news,” he said. “She will be overjoyed, of course, but her joy can become excessive.”

  “She met us in the entry,” Bingley said.

  Mr. Bennet sighed. “Then there is no hope for you now. I suggest you speak to my daughters directly or the whole business shall be decided and proclaimed by their mother.”

  And they did just as he said, securing their ladies during a stroll in the garden before dinner.

  As it turned out, dinner was a somewhat painful experience for Darcy. Mrs. Bennet was overjoyed just as her husband had said she would be, and William seethed with anger exactly as Darcy had expected he would.

  Thankfully, William had kept his opinions to himself for the entire evening and did not created a scene or put voice to his displeasure while in company. However, as Darcy was leaving, William had approached him, which was why Darcy now stood at the edge of the field near the knoll as the sun was rising, waiting for William to appear for their appointment.

  Darcy sliced the air with his foil and shuffled through a position or two. His foot was hurting, but not so much that it made him concerned about having a great disadvantage. What did concern him regarding disadvantages was William’s reach. Darcy was certain that the younger Mr. Bennet’s arms were longer than his, which would make it far easier for him to land his points.

  “This is ridiculous,” Bingley said.

  “I agree,” Darcy replied. “But he demanded satisfaction for having his wishes ignored. It will change nothing. It will only make him feel he has gotten redress.”

  “He believes lies!” Bingley fairly shouted. “And he is challenging you to defend your honour without bothering to ask you about what he has heard!”

  Darcy sighed. “I realize what he is doing and that it is foolish, but I also believe he will be more willing to listen after he has expended some of his anger.”

  “At your expense!”

  Darcy nodded, and Bingley paced a circuit near the fence, muttering to himself about foolishness and how the weather was growing decidedly more chilled each morning.

  It was only about five minutes later that William Bennet arrived with Mr. Bennet.

  “I would not allow him to find another to stand with him,” Mr. Bennet explained. “I have no desire to have this foolishness broadcast far and wide.” He leveled a glare at his son.

  “He is not what he seems,” William replied.

  “So you have said, repeatedly. However, I have yet to learn if you have discussed that with him.” Mr. Bennet replied.

  “No, he has not,” Bingley answered.

  “Good morning, Mr. Bingley. I can see you are as pleased as I am to be here.”

  “Indeed.” Bingley crossed his arms and scowled at William.

  “Shall we begin?” Darcy asked.

  “I applaud your ability to be so calm,” Mr. Bennet said to Darcy.

  Darcy only smiled grimly. His calmness was a façade. Within, he was incensed that William Bennet was so stubborn as to act before thinking. That quality d
id not recommend him to Darcy. He could understand the man’s need to protect his sisters, but he could not comprehend doing so in such an ignorant fashion.

  Mr. Bennet chuckled at Darcy’s response and nodded his understanding. “Let me amend that. I applaud your control.”

  Bingley stepped between Darcy and William. “You will cede the field when you have been hit three times.” He raised a brow and glared at William. “He is injured, and I’ll not let him suffer for longer than that.”

  William gave a nod of his head. And then, when Bingley had stepped back, the duel began.

  “What are you doing?” Elizabeth shouted from the top of the knoll before running down to where her father was.

  “William feels he was injured in some fashion because Mr. Darcy dared to pursue you after William had told him he was not welcome.”

  “And you condone this?” she asked her father in surprise.

  He shook his head. “I did not want him bringing anyone else into the situation, so I insisted that I be the one to attend him and see that things were done fairly.”

  “You!” Elizabeth turned on William, who had stopped his match with Darcy and was standing, waiting to resume. “You would question our father’s decision? You would question my ability to choose wisely?” She spat the questions at her brother as she advanced toward him. “How could you?”

  “He has fooled you,” William replied.

  “The only fool is you!” Elizabeth cried. “You have no support of your beliefs other than a few cross words spoken by an injured man.”

  “I know what I have heard,” William ground out. “I have no desire to see you tied to such a man as I have heard Mr. Darcy to be.”

  “I have already accepted him.”

  “It can be undone.” William pulled himself straight.

  “You are being ridiculous!” Elizabeth threw her hands up in exasperation.

  “That is precisely what I said,” Bingley agreed.

  “I am being as I should be,” William shot back. “I am trying to protect you just as you asked me to.”

  “Stop!” Elizabeth brushed tears from her cheek. “Just stop.”

  Darcy longed to go to her, to comfort her, but he also knew that in so doing, he would only provoke her brother further.

  “I will stop if you will undo what you have done.”

  Elizabeth gasped and looked from her brother to her father and back.

  “William,” Mr. Bennet said sharply, “consider carefully what you are asking. I have given my permission. I see no reason to refuse a man like Mr. Darcy.”

  William looked nowhere but at Elizabeth. “What is your answer?”

  “You are truly asking me to chose between you and Mr. Darcy?”

  William nodded.

  Elizabeth shook her head.

  Darcy forced himself to stay where he was instead of thrashing William as he deserved. If he were ever to win over Elizabeth’s brother, it would not be with force or apparently logic.

  “I love you,” Elizabeth’s eyes shifted from William to Darcy. “Both of you.” She held Darcy’s gaze for a heartbeat or two before she shrugged sadly and turned back to her brother. “But,” she wiped tears from her face with the palm of her hand, “I choose him. I choose Mr. Darcy.”

  For the briefest of moments, Darcy wanted to shout his victory to the sky. Elizabeth loved him enough to choose him above her brother. However, in a flash as powerful and quick as lightning, his elation was dashed to grief for he knew what he had to do. “No.”

  All eyes turned toward him.

  “I cannot allow it.” He moved toward Elizabeth. “I will not take you from your brother no matter how dear you are to me. I would be no better than Wickham if I did. He has always taken what he wanted without regard for those around him.” He shook his head. “No that is not true. He has taken what he wanted where I am concerned while relishing in the pain it caused me.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. Her tears increasing and tearing at Darcy’s heart.

  Mr. Bennet stepped over to where he was. “But in refusing Elizabeth’s choice are you not allowing the stories this Wickham has told to take her from you?”

  Darcy swallowed against the tears he could feel threatening and nodded. “But I will not be what he is. He nearly claimed my sister this past summer, and my desolation would have been complete. I cannot be the source of such pain for another.”

  “But what of Elizabeth?” Mr. Bennet asked softly.

  That was a touch too far for Darcy’s composure. “I will,” his voice cracked, and a tear escaped down his cheek. “Wait for her,” he finished in a whisper. “For as long as it takes.” He bowed to William and Mr. Bennet, pressed a kiss to Elizabeth’s hand and quickly found his horse and took his leave before either his resolve crumbled, or he made an utter fool of himself by weeping.

  Chapter 14

  Through her tears, Elizabeth watched Mr. Darcy, followed by Mr. Bingley, go. Her father wrapped her in his arms.

  “I thought there was little danger in your brother meeting with Mr. Darcy, or I would have forbidden it.”

  Elizabeth had no words. All she was capable of doing at present was shaking her head. It was not his fault that Mr. Darcy had left her.

  “Come,” he said gently. “You may ride my horse, and I will walk beside you.”

  “No,” she managed to force from her lips.

  “You cannot stay here,” said William.

  She pushed away from her father and turned toward her brother. “Do not speak to me!” She blew out a breath. “Ever,” she added. “I did not choose you, nor will I ever. And I will not return to the house with you!” Fury such as she had never felt rose within her. How could he be so stupid as to not see that Mr. Darcy was a perfectly honorable gentleman?

  “Lizzy,” her father said softly, “you will eventually have to speak to William.”

  She shook her head.

  Mr. Bennet sighed. “I will send Jane to you. You will be under your tree?”

  Elizabeth nodded.

  “I do not want Jane to have to wander hither and yon trying to find you,” he cautioned.

  “I will be where you said.” She drew a sleeve of her pelisse across her eyes in an attempt to dry her tears, not that, at this moment, she thought they would ever stop flowing.

  “Will you accept both my handkerchief and that of your brother?” Mr. Bennet held out his handkerchief to her as William withdrew his from his pocket.

  Gratefully, Elizabeth took the piece of cloth from her father but hesitated before accepting William’s. She did not wish to even touch something which belonged to him at present, but she did have need of something to dry her eyes and nose. She murmured a thank you and turned to leave them and go to her tree.

  “Lizzy,” William called after her. She could hear his concern for her in his voice, and despite her anger, it pricked her heart.

  “Do not speak to me,” she threw the words over her shoulder. Then she stopped. She would not listen to him, but he could listen to her. Perhaps now he would be more willing to do so. “You know nothing of him! Nothing! When you know about him. When you can tell me all you know about him which you have heard from his own lips – not from the lips of another profligate schemer – “ she smiled at his look of shock at her choice of words. “—only then, will I allow you to speak to me.”

  And with those words, she turned away once more and made her way to where she could attempt to gain control of her sorrow. She could not return to the house and her mother as she was right now. She would need to gather some semblance of fortitude before facing her mother’s concerned coddling.

  She sank down under the tree, heedless of her gown or pelisse. Not much seemed worthy of consideration presently. She pulled her knees up and rested her forehead on them as she allowed herself to fully indulge in the misery of her heart. She berated William for his actions for several minutes until her anger was spent. Then she turned her thoughts to Mr. Darcy.

  She lifte
d her head and looked toward Netherfield. “I love you,” she whispered. She had not known it until she had been met with William’s demand. She had known she admired Mr. Darcy and that she longed to know more about him. She had known that she wished for him to take her hand and, she smiled through her tears, she had known when he kissed her that she would like to have him do so again. But in the instant when she had to choose between giving him up and remaining as she had always been or stepping away from the familiar confines of her family to be at his side, she had come to realize just what it was that drew her to him. It was not his wealth or his handsome features. It was him – his heart, his character, the way he smiled when he saw her, the ease with which they entered into intimate conversation – it was who he would be even if all his riches were removed and his features, disfigured. And she had known that she could not give him up any more than she could hand William her own heart.

  How such a love had developed in so short a time was beyond her comprehension. But then, it did not matter how it happened. It only mattered that it had and now it been torn from her.

  She buried her head in her arms which still rested on her knees and wept without thinking for a few moments. Then, determined that she would not be a complete watering pot when Jane arrived, she lifted her head, dried her tears, and attempted to keep more from spilling as she replayed the events of the morning in her head. She had been so excited to see Mr. Darcy when she had left the house, and then… The sound of metal clashing with metal and the sight of her brother and Mr. Darcy engaged in battle had frightened her.

  “Elizabeth?” Jane touched her shoulder to alert her sister to her presence before carefully taking a seat next to her on the ground. She wrapped her arms around Elizabeth’s shoulders. “Papa told me what happened.”

  “When will I learn to hold my tongue?” Elizabeth shook her head. “If I had remained silent…”

  “Shhh,” Jane cooed. “What has been done is done. We cannot alter that now.”

  “I love him, Jane. I love him most ardently.”